Basium
by Aeary
Summary: There were some things that Ciel just did not understand. But he did know that his butler was always there to protect him, even when he didn't ask for the help . . .


**I felt like doing something cute, since **_**Break my Suffering Bonds**_** is so somber right now. As for age, Ciel is . . . whatever age you want him to be. I'm not specific in this one. But when I wrote it I thought of him as in the 12-13 age range. **

**Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Toboso Yana**

**Rating: K+**

**.**

**Basium**

_A Kiss_

**.**

There were some things Ciel just did not understand.

For one, he didn't know how Sebastian could tease him so callously one moment, just to stare at him with a strong sense of _possession _once there was a sense of danger present. It almost seemed like he really did care about him. It was barely there, of course; every once in a blue moon the boy would catch Sebastian's glance of concern before it returned to indifference. But when it did happen, butterflies decided to make a home out of his stomach, and he found himself pondering just what those looks meant. It was such a far-fetched idea to think that the demon could possibly care about him. Those brief glances of affection told Ciel that he might just be wrong, though.

If that were the case, then, Ciel did not understand how the demon could tease him so wrongly. Sebastian's constant attempts to shame him threw away any inkling of satisfaction lurking in the boy. He had been knocked down on, mocked, and degraded in a way none of those occultists had ever managed. With Sebastian, he was brought back to raw emotion. No one else ever made him cry like the demon could. He honestly felt like a child when faced with the man's sense of justice. It was pitiful.

Ciel did not understand how Sebastian could treat him in such a gentle manner when they were alone. Sure, the demon did his best to exploit Ciel's inabilities while they were around others. But when it was just the two of them, things were completely different. Ciel felt _safe _around him. When they were alone, Sebastian was just Sebastian . . . not a centuries-old demon, nor an obedient dog. This Sebastian understood that Ciel _wanted _to be a child, deep down. And he was treated like one . . . late at night when he was readied for bed, and in the morning when Sebastian would treat him to a delightful sweet and tea for breakfast. The unexpected kindness was almost too much for him to bear in the end.

But in the end, what he _really _did not understand was how Sebastian could protect him, time and time again. With every instruction from the Queen came the threat of danger, and almost always there were points where he should have died. Yet Sebastian came to save him . . . every single time it happened. It would be easier, Ciel thought, to just let him die; it would mean Sebastian could have his soul just like that, without having to wait. At this stage, he wouldn't even mind if that happened. He was tired of everything that had taken place after his return to the manor. And yet, Sebastian was there to save him from death. And the look in his eyes . . . oh, it told him that perhaps the demon really _did _want their contract to be fulfilled until the very end and not before.

And there were times, like right now for instance, where Sebastian had even protected Ciel from himself.

He screamed himself into waking, stark white sheets tangled messily around his stick-thin legs. The scent of burning flesh remained with him; it wasn't an unusual occurrence, but it was a shock all the same. It always felt like this: suffocating, and painful, and like he was going to die alone. So, like it were a normal thing, he leaned over the edge of his bed, not bothering to pull his legs from the sheets, and vomited his entire dinner onto the floor of his bedroom.

Ciel knew that no matter how old he was, the horror he had witnessed on his tenth birthday would always be a nightmare to him. The dream was different every time and never had a happy ending. There was always something different staring back at him when his mind warped to that alternate reality. Perhaps the most terrifying part of it was that in his dream, there was no Sebastian to rescue him. No, in his dreams, he always died. And that was the worst.

"Another one?"

It had come to the point where there wasn't a need to call for Sebastian. The demon always seemed to know when Ciel wanted him anyway. The boy was slightly miffed at this; one would think that a demon would gain pleasure from the suffering a nightmare brought. Sebastian, though, was different. Sebastian was the reason he could stand the nightmares as much as he had, because he knew his butler would be with him once he woke up. The sound of the demon's voice in his doorway eased his nausea immediately, and he relaxed.

"My Lord," Sebastian sighed quietly; the door swung closed with a soft click. "Do you not have it in yourself to . . . hold it in until I arrive?"

"Sorry," he hissed quietly, though there wasn't really an ounce of remorse hiding in his system at this point. With a small effort, he pulled his body up and away from the filth on the floor. For just a second he allowed his eyes to flutter over to Sebastian before he dropped his head onto his raised knees, images of the nightmare still burned into his eyelids. It was _always _like this. And now, he knew, there would be no more sleeping tonight, even though he had just fallen asleep two hours ago. He would crawl through the morning staring blankly at paperwork, and by the time Sebastian came by to serve afternoon tea he would be out cold in his desk chair. It always happened.

But another thing that always happened . . . was that Sebastian would stay with him all night to chase away the dreams, and it made all the difference.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the butler did his duty. Ciel kept his eyes shut tightly, but he could hear Sebastian moving to clean the mess off of the floor. The slight, nearly soundless creak of a door said that a bath would soon be underway. The dresser door swinging open was the warning that he didn't have much longer to calm down, because Sebastian was collecting a change of clothes. The small routine was down to a science at this point.

Reluctantly Ciel disentangled his legs from the sheets, shivering as the cool air hit his bare skin. Before he could move to stand on his own, Sebastian swept down to lift him into black-clad arms. The boy blinked in dumb surprise; that was certainly a new development. "Sebastian," he muttered in confusion, "what are you doing?"

"Taking care of my master, of course," he replied innocently. "Does the Young Master object? I did not think you were prepared to walk at the time."

"It's fine . . ." Sebastian was warm—hot, even—and the heat was welcomed after such a frightful dream. Besides, there wasn't a reputation to uphold in his own bedroom, so there was no point in trying to be strong when he knew he wasn't. He sagged back against Sebastian's arms, curling into the large chest and resting his head just above where the demon's heart should have been. In the short, thirty second stretch from his bed to the tub, he managed to successfully doze off again . . . though he didn't dare let himself fall back into the realm of sleep for fear of what might happen.

"Young Master, you won't last the night if you keep doing that," Sebastian chuckled softly.

He chose not to answer, instead letting his eyes flicker up momentarily in annoyance. It wasn't like he was _trying_ to go back to sleep. But three nightmares in as many nights had begun to toy with his brain. The only thing that kept him carefully aware was the knowledge that if he _did _drift off one more time, the nightmare would be back to haunt him immediately.

His feet touched the tiled floor, and the cold creeping up his legs brought him into full awareness. Ciel teetered for a moment once Sebastian let go of him, only then taking in his surroundings. His bath room was large, the tub much too big for someone of his size and more likely resembling a swimming pool. He hated the floor . . . the tiles were always too cold on his bare feet, and though it made him all the more eager to retreat into the warm water, getting out again just made it worse. Nothing in the room made him happy, really. Nothing. But . . . for some reason, he always looked forward to the time when Sebastian would wash the dust and grime away from his body.

Though maybe that was just because of the butler himself . . .

He allowed his expression to remain impassive as Sebastian meticulously stripped him of his night clothes, leaving him perfectly naked in the middle of the room. It was then that Ciel realized he was shaking, and not because of the cold. Possibly it was exhaustion and fear; the image of the burning house had yet to leave his mind. But it let Ciel know that _something _had to change, before it got out of hand.

"Sebastian?" he finally breathed, inhaling as the calming scent of lavender oil.

"My Lord?" was the automatic reply . . . mechanical, as always.

"Is there any way to cure insomnia?"

Sebastian froze in his ministrations, black-haired head cocking around to stare at the trembling child. Ciel stared back, unblinkingly, hoping against hope that Sebastian would have _some _way to save him from this nightly terror. However . . . "In due time, Young Master," the butler sighed, turning his head back to the tub. "First you need to relax."

"But you'll tell me?"

"I don't rather have a choice in the matter," Sebastian chuckled. "After all, I am not in a position to ignore a question of that sort. Come now, Young Master, forget about the nightmare for a few minutes. You are still remembering it right now."

"I can't _help _it," he whispered. "I _want _to forget. I want to forget everything that happened. If . . . if my memories weren't here, everything would be so much easier."

"Ah, but that is where our opinions differ, I think." Ciel's feet left the cold tiles again and he returned to Sebastian's arms, if only briefly. "You see," Sebastian said softly as he lowered the child down into the tub, "if you lacked memories of that night, or of your month of captivity, then surely you would not be the Young Master I have the pleasure of serving. It is quite daunting a threat, I think. I would not like you nearly so much if you weren't like this."

A soft sigh of relief echoed throughout the room as Ciel's body came in contact with the warm water. It was just the right temperature, as always. The feeling of being submerged always relaxed his tense muscles, letting his mind finally take a brief reprieve from the horrors it had been facing. He rested his head against the porcelain edge and shut his eyes away from the light of the room. For the first time since waking, scorching flames did not dance behind his eyelids.

He didn't flinch as Sebastian poured water over his head, and he didn't move when he felt long fingers threading through his hair, gently kneading shampoo into the teal locks. The action was soothing, and once more, he could have fallen asleep, but this time he stayed awake merely because he was enjoying himself. The demon's hands were massaging his scalp as well as they were cleaning it, effectively banishing what had formerly been an oncoming headache.

"Young Master, are you tired?"

"Insanely." Ciel cracked his left eye open to stare up and behind. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to sleep."

"Surely you don't plan on staying up all night again? This will be the third time in a row." The fingers inched lower, towards the nape of his neck, collecting the slightly too-long hair in order to make it just as soapy as the rest of his head.

"I . . . don't want to see the nightmare again. No matter what. If I go back to sleep tonight that is the _only _thing I will conjure up."

"I see. Would that not perhaps be part of your problem?" The hands left his head, the headache making itself known again just afterwards. More water poured over Ciel's head to wash away the suds. "Have you heard what they say? Your dreams usually stem from whatever you were thinking about beforehand."

"Is that so? I have never heard such ludicrous rumors."

"What do you think of before you go to bed, then, if I may be so bold?"

The boy closed his eye again, letting Sebastian push him down further in the water to properly wash away the shampoo. "Obviously, I wonder whether I am going to have another nightmare or not. As much as I would like to, I cannot deny it."

"But you see," Sebastian explained as he prepared the sponge, "it would make perfect sense, Young Master. Because you are worrying about having the nightmare, you're only provoking the real thing into coming to haunt you. You should think of different things before you go to bed."

"Like what?" he scoffed halfheartedly.

"Perhaps thinking of Lady Elizabeth would suffice—"

"Absolutely not! That's by far worse than that nightmare . . . a dream with Lizzy would be a terror upon itself. You are mad for even _suggesting _such a thing." Ciel relaxed further at the lilac-scented body soap Sebastian had begun preparing.

"Surely you must be jesting," Sebastian chuckled.

"Maybe," came the grumbled reply. "But I'd still rather not like to think about her."

"The servants, then?"

"Ha. There is nothing pleasant about them either. How in the world would I find pleasure in dreaming of broken dishes, charred meat, and shriveled trees?"

"They are rather clumsy like that," Sebastian agreed. The soft sponge came in contact with Ciel's shoulder. At this he opened his eyes and leaned forward, his face hardly an inch from the water as he waited for the butler to wash his back. "Well then, we shall have to find something worthy of occupying your thoughts."

"I'm not saying it would work anyway," Ciel was quick to intervene. "I mean, this is merely speculation, after all. I don't believe it really helps."

"Of course," the demon agreed. That only made the boy frown; he could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn't believe him at all. "If you could straighten up just a bit . . ."

The gentle scrubbing of the sponge lulled Ciel back into a half-awake state, and he was content to stay that way for the remainder of his bath. He let Sebastian take care of him to the fullest extent; the demon seemed to have no problem with it, and he didn't feel inclined to move anyway. The talking had been new . . . but now it was back to the way it had been two nights ago, silent and mechanical.

It was only when Sebastian was helping him climb over the lip of the tub that he felt compelled to speak once more, and it was only because the silence was becoming almost oppressing in his mind. "Why did it have to be me?" he mumbled to the room in general.

"My Lord?"

"The fire, the occultists, the _memories_ . . . sometimes I wonder why I was left with all of this." He trained his eyes on the cold, unfeeling floor, unwilling to look at Sebastian. "It's not fair, is it?"

"No." A large white towel fell into place around Ciel's shoulders. "Even I must say that such a destiny should not be meant for someone such as yourself. But no one can control fate."

"A pity." He grabbed the edges of the towel, pulling it in on himself. Finally he glanced up at the demon, a pensive frown creasing his face. "This tile . . . can we replace it with carpet?"

"That would be unwise," Sebastian was quick to object. "The water would ruin the carpet in a matter of days. Is the tile not to your liking? It can be replaced—"

"It's just _cold_."

"Ah. That can be fixed." A ghost of a smirk flitted across the demon's face; Ciel grimaced. He was planning something . . .

"Don't start teasing me," he warned crossly.

"I was planning nothing of the sort."

And once more, Ciel was in Sebastian's arms, feet free from the ungrateful frigid floor. The boy squeaked indignantly and hastily yanked the towel over his unclothed body. "I never gave you permission to—"

"Nor did you the other two times I did it tonight, Young Master," Sebastian replied cheerfully. "I took the liberty of removing your feet from the floor, as the floor cannot move away from your feet. Are you so opposed to the idea of me carrying you? I do it all the time . . ."

"That's why it's embarrassing," Ciel growled. "I'm not a _girl_, Sebastian; you shouldn't treat me like one . . ."

"I have not once thought of you as a girl," the butler replied defensively.

"Not once?" There was a certain incident in mind, of course . . .

Sebastian frowned. "If you're thinking of the time Madame Red planned your disguise out to be a girl's, it does not count. I was _supposed _to think of you as a lady."

"Whatever," Ciel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly.

"Back to your earlier question," Sebastian began, depositing the boy back onto his bed, "about insomnia. Are you quite calm now?"

"I'm fine now." Ciel reluctantly let the towel drop from his body; the butler took it and placed it off to the side. "I . . . talking earlier helped me forget about it for now."

"That is quite a good sign, if you can be distracted. Arms up, please."

He stuck his arms up in the air, and Sebastian eased a button-less nightgown over his damp head. There was another moment of silence while the fabric was adjusted over his thin form, and this time the quiet was not appreciated. Ciel had the feeling that he was about to be lectured on something, or at least get preached to for a good five minutes. Coming from Sebastian, it was slightly frightening.

But Sebastian did neither of the two; instead he bent down onto his knee so as to look the Earl in the eyes and smiled. "I am sure there are ways to cure insomnia by natural means. However, I do not think you are suffering from insomnia. Rather, it is just an innate fear of sleeping at this point. You are afraid to go to sleep because the nightmare will return, and the reason they return is because you are expecting them. Does that sound plausible to you?"

"I suppose, but I don't really think that's the reason . . ."

"My suggestion earlier, Young Master, was one said in all seriousness. I believe that if you are sufficiently distracted by something else before you sleep, the nightmares will not plague you as often." The butler pursed his lips. "The only problem is finding something to do the job. One does not easily forget a nightmare like that."

"You figure that out, then," Ciel pouted unhappily. "While you're busy thinking of something, I'll be watching my parents burn to death again."

"Don't be bitter about it. I am trying to help you. I will ask you, then." Sebastian's hands, gloved now that Ciel was out of the bath, reached up to pat down stray locks of blue-gray hair. "What do _you _think would be a good distraction to your problem?"

"Like I would have any suggestions. You know nothing makes me happy anymore. Why would I want to think about something depressing?"

"Nothing makes you happy?" Sebastian repeated innocently.

"No. You of all people should know that." The Earl pushed Sebastian's hands away from his head and flopped down sideways on the bed. "Honestly, it isn't going to work."

"What about me, then?"

"What?" Ciel squawked; he forcibly jerked his head over to Sebastian, glaring into the inquisitive burgundy eyes. "What about you?"

"I make you happy, do I not? I saved you from death that time. Why don't you think of that?"

"You're crazy. I don't want to think about that, because that would involve thinking of what happened before you came. That is almost worse than the fire." He bit his lip. "Besides. You didn't save me from death. You paused my death. I will still die long before my time."

"But it isn't death you fear. That is one of the things I admire so much about you." Sebastian rose from his kneeling position and pulled Ciel back upright. "Then . . . if not that night, then what about me in general?"

"Are you really that self-centered to think that my happiness would revolve around you?" Of course, Ciel had to hide the fact that he really did feel better whenever the butler was around. He would never admit that to anyone other than himself. Especially not to Sebastian . . . Sebastian _couldn't _know. It would be cause for no end of teasing.

"Then answer me this." Sebastian's arms clutched Ciel's scrawny shoulders, and there was a mocking smirk . . . _Dammit, he knows . . .!_ "When you are in your study, sitting at your desk, and I walk in . . . do you sigh in frustration or relief?"

Ciel seized the chance. "Frustration, of course—"

"And when you are alone with Lady Elizabeth," Sebastian continued, not giving Ciel time to finish his protest, "why do you always look towards the door as if waiting for someone to come in and rescue you?"

"Because _anyone _is better than Lizzy—"

"And thirdly, Young Master, why do you always seek my presence at night following your nightmares?"

Ciel had no comeback to that particular jab, and his mouth snapped shut indignantly. There was no denying that Sebastian had eyes like a hawk . . . or, perhaps, a raven. Sebastian could strip everything bare even when the boy tried to hide it. He pointedly jerked his head away.

"Oh? So I was right?"

"You sound like you're about to laugh!"

"Nonsense. This is no laughing matter. I am merely amused by your sudden bout of stubbornness." The hands on his shoulders loosened; Sebastian knelt down once more so that they were face to face. "Whether we can think of a solution or not, you need to sleep tonight. Those bags under your eyes are most unbecoming."

Ciel frowned at the butler's smiling face; surely nothing good could come of this. "If I go back to sleep, the dreams will come again. I don't care how bad I look—"

"Does My Lord trust me?"

He froze, slightly taken aback by this question. "On normal terms, of course I do. You can't disobey me."

"Is that the only reason you trust me?"

"No," he breathed near-silently. "I trust you."

"And is My Lord happy to be with me?"

"Sometimes . . ."

It was a lie, and they both knew it. The smile widened on the demon's face. "Then please allow me to provide a temporary distraction until a permanent one can be found. Close your eyes, Young Master, and be sure not to open them at all."

Ciel's instincts were screaming at him to refuse the demon. Any time Sebastian said something of the sort, the result was something never desired. And yet . . . yet he was so _curious . . ._

He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking Sebastian's face from view.

Hands left his shoulders, only to place themselves on either side of his face. Hot breath wafted over his right ear, and then something soft yet firm was pressing against his forehead. Something unexpectedly soothing.

"_Oh_ . . ." Ciel gasped in realization. Sebastian's lips . . . his lips were on his skin, they were warm, and on the whole, completely welcome. Anywhere or anytime else, his pride certainly would have gotten the best of him. But he cast it aside just this once and shamelessly leaned into the foreign touch.

The mouth twisted upwards into another smile. They moved then, sliding down to his right eyelid. Ciel flinched slightly at this one, because he wanted so badly to look . . . but Sebastian told him to keep his eyes shut, and he was going to obey for once. He kept patiently still as his other eyelid received the same treatment, and then there was a gentle peck on the tip of his nose. And then . . .

"I can stop now." Sebastian's breath ghosted over his face pleasantly. "But that would be up to you."

"I don't mind, really," the child replied faintly. The abrupt stop was aggravating; he'd been _expecting _the next touch. He kept his eyes patiently closed; it was up to the butler to make the next move.

"Lay down first, My Lord. And keep those eyes shut."

Ciel let his body fall sideways. He didn't know exactly where his pillow was located, but he knew that he wouldn't fall the wrong way with Sebastian to guide him. Within seconds his head met the fluff of his pillow and covers were tugged gently over his form. He was almost brave enough to fall asleep like this, and to forget about seeing his parents burn to death . . . but not quite, not at this point.

"Sleep well, Young Master," Sebastian whispered, and then their mouths were together, _touching_, and Ciel was spiraling back into a bliss that he had not experienced since before his tenth birthday. It only took that before he was asleep, breathing lightly, his thoughts filled with little more than the remembrance of the demon's lips on his.

No more nightmares would frighten him this night.

**.**

Sebastian straightened up to stare down at his little Master. With a fond last glance, he ran his gloved fingers through the boy's still-damp hair, sending him still further over the edge. Really . . . he was far too easy to seduce . . .

But the demon did not mind sinking so far as to offer comfort, just for this one.

He chuckled softly to himself and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

**.**

**Fin~**

**I have a few more one-shots coming . . . an Aloiel is in the works simply because I feel that there isn't enough out there for the pairing. So be on the lookout for that! **

**Thanks for the read, and as always, I hope you enjoyed it. :)**

**~Shadow**


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